


Like Them

by writtenFIRES



Series: Egos, Inc. [1]
Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: Blood (mention), Brainwashing, Dehumanization, Egoplier, Emotional Abuse, Eye Gore (mention), Forced Captivity, Markiplier - Freeform, Markiplier egos - Freeform, Parody, Physical Abuse, Stockholm Syndrome, Tell me if I missed anything, boy tagging their relationship sucks lol, dark as frollo, host as quasimodo, is anyone honestly surprised, its a parody of a scene from hunchback of notre dame, psychological abuse, you know the one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-22 17:34:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11385036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writtenFIRES/pseuds/writtenFIRES
Summary: Dark introduces the Host to the other egos at Egos, Inc., but really he just wants to keep his little self-made prophet all to himself. When the Host conveys desires to change that, Dark figures it's time for another lesson.Based off the song/scene "Out There" from Disney's The Hunchback of Notre Dame and lots of inspiration from alcordraws on Tumblr!





	Like Them

**Author's Note:**

> Alright so this is the first of a series of oneshots I've been sitting on for a while. I've been stalking [alcordraws](https://alcordraws.tumblr.com/) for ages now and by god do I love all of their stuff. Be it headcanons, theories, art or writing. They're amazing. Seriously, go follow them right now if you haven't. Even if you're not super into Markiplier or his egos. Just do it. You won't regret it.
> 
> So reading and seeing Dark's relationship with the Host is what gave me this idea, as I was listening to ["Out There"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jdIP2xmDqx0) one day. I realized how well the relationship of Quasimodo and Frollo from the movie fit and then I just had to make a parody with the song.
> 
> Ironically, the part in the beginning with Dark hardly needed to be changed at all! That's how similar the manipulation is. It's astounding. Now Host's solo, that took a lot more effort, but I quite enjoy the way it turned out. uwu Let me know what you guys think!

It had only been about a week since Darkiplier brought the Host to Egos, Inc. One week back amidst civilization (somewhat), this time around without his eyes. Adjusting to all of the people and the buzz of activity was... difficult, to say the least. Host had admittedly spent the first few days curled up in his new room of the building: an old library none of the other egos had shown interest in. Host had few personal belongings besides his books, his bat and his violin to fill the minimal space. He didn't mind.

It was quiet. And dim. And no one except Dark ever came there. He was left alone to wallow in his regrets and sorrow, in the endless blood dribbling from his empty eye sockets and the constant visions swarming his head. Dark had taken the time to let Host adjust before bringing him to the headquarters, but still he felt so out of depth with his new abilities.

He missed his eyes. Though the power he now held was greater than ever before- perhaps even greater than Dark's- he had to wonder if the cost was worth it. If sensing the terrified expressions of the other egos, the hurt and disappointment on one pink mustachioed ego, was worth that superiority.

Dark certainly seemed to think so. He didn't enjoy Host's brief, quietly mumbled requests to see the other egos more, to get to know them beyond the meetings. He didn't seem to appreciate Host's interest in anyone but him. Or the Host's desire to acclimate himself to this cruel, confusing new world.

No, Dark only seemed to appreciate and show interest in the Host focusing his attentions and efforts on him and him alone. It was late one night at Egos, Inc. when they had another one of their "talks." Really, it was more Dark scolding Host than anything. If Host spoke up at all, it would merely be a hesitant mumble. Or verbal compliance. Tonight was no different, as Dark circled about him with irritation rolling off his greyed features.

Host had mentioned to Dark how Wilford was looking for someone to host the new radio show they would be testing out, a companion of sorts to the Markiplier TV scheme. He'd confessed to showing interest; to having an outlet for his stories and visions. Perhaps, even, using it as an opportunity to better fit in with the other egos, since he was to be living among them.

Dark hadn't liked it. Dark hadn't liked that suggestion at all, and he didn't hesitate to remind Host of exactly why it was such a terrible idea. His aura crackled and rang in the Host's ears as he began to speak, his deep voice lilting and almost soothing in a way that could only make one's skin crawl.

_"The world is cruel, the world is wicked._   
_It is I alone whom you can trust in this whole building._   
_I am your only friend."_

Chilled fingers swept over Host's shoulder and he shuddered at the frozen sting they left behind, even through his coat. He gathered it closer about him, feeling the temperature drop in the room. He had no doubts his breath could be seen in the frosty air.

_"I, who kept you, taught you, fed you, dressed you._   
_I who look upon you without fear._   
_How can I protect you, Host, unless you always stay with me?_   
_Away from them."_

Dark stepped up behind the Host, resting both hands firmly upon his shoulders. The frigid burn had been lessened, but now a harsh weight was applied, steadily pushing the Host down, down, down into the dark depths of the crackling aura and his own blinded mind. Static filled his ears until Dark's rumbling tones were the only thing he could hear. "Remember what I told you, Host. _You are deformed._ "

_"I am deformed."_ The words came soft and hushed to Host's lips as he licked them, recalling Dark's statements as his only clarity through the haze.

_"And you are deadly."_

_"And I am deadly."_

_"And these are crimes for which the world shows little pity._   
_You do not comprehend."_

_"You are my one defender."_

Host swore he felt Dark's sinister, pleased smile at his back. He did so enjoy when his puppets knew their placed and played along to the jerk of his strings. Yet, at the same time, Host knew Dark was right. Dark was the only ego he could without a doubt trust. Dark had saved his life. The others were a mystery; a danger; a threat.

_"All of them revile you as a monster."_ Dark sneered.

_"I am a monster."_ Host's tone was resolved; defeated.

_"All they'll do is hate and scorn and jeer."_

_"Only a monster."_

_"Why invite their calumny and consternation?_   
_Stay with me."_

Dark finally released Host's shoulders, but the cold which had gathered there lingered. It clung to him, making it feel as if all that weight which had been pressed upon him was still being applied, even as he felt Dark step around to his front. He knew their eyes would be locked, if Host had them. Small blessings.

_"Be faithful to me."_

_"I'm faithful."_

_"Grateful to me."_

_"I'm grateful."_

_"Do as I say..."_ Dark reached out to grasp Host's chin and he went stock still with fear, his breath catching in his throat. _"Obey..."_ Host could feel Dark's cold breath fanning across his face as the other ego leaned in to cement his "lesson." The mental image his narrations conjured up terrified him. _"And stay with me..."_

_"I'll stay with you."_ Host's head dropped as Dark released his face, another cloudy breath leaving his lips. "You are good to me, Dark. I'm sorry." The apology was barely above a whisper, but Dark heard it. He was satisfied- for now.

"You are forgiven. But remember, Host." Dark moved to cradle Host's cheek in his palm. It was a faux show of tenderness, and all it did was leave tiny ice crytals dusted along Host's skin. "I am your sanctuary." Dark's hand slid off his cheek, and with that their little "session" was deemed concluded. He turned his back on Host without a second thought and left him alone in his library of solitude.

Demeaned and demoralized, Host remained slumped where he stood. The temperature in the room would return to normal soon enough, but he knew the chill residing in his veins and within his heart would take longer. The library was silent beyond the sound of his own breathing.

"My sanctuary...."

Slowly, Host turned away from the door, retreating deeper into the room. He ducked among the shelves and books where their musty scent made him feel safe. It was warmer there as well, tucked away from the influence Dark had been exerting. Releasing another hushed breath, Host began murmuring to himself, allowing his hand to run across the spines of so many books he could no longer see.

_"Safe behind these bookshelves and these words that I have sown,_   
_Gazing at the others from a distance._   
_All my life I watched them as I hid out there alone,_   
_Uncaring for their histories or substance."_

Host paused to pull a particular book from the shelf. He didn't need to see it to recognize it as one of his own. All of his books had been made with a piece of himself; a piece of his soul. Just being in their presence felt like home.

_"All my life I'd memorized the stanzas,_   
_Never once an offering of quittance._   
_All my life I'd wonder how it feels to pass a day,_   
_Not far from them..._   
_But part of them..."_

Clutching the book in his hands like a last life line, Host left the shelves, returning the major empty space of the library. He had to pass through it to reach his own personalized corner, but his mental gaze caught the door as he shuffled past.

_"And like them,_   
_Living in the sun._   
_Give me one day like them,_   
_All I ask is one,_   
_To hold forever..."_

Nonsense. Host wasn't like them. He was different. Created by Mark, but then fabricated to be different... changed... irrevocably twisted. He was chained to Dark and all of them could see it. There was no place for him. No place, except by Dark's side.

_"Like them,_   
_Where they all live unaware._   
_What I'd give._   
_What I'd dare._   
_Just to live one day like them..."_

Oh, how part of him wished, though. How it thought and wondered and conjured ideas of what it could be like. Hanging around, joking and laughing, sharing stories and ideas to garner more attention from Mark's fans. No. No, surely Mark's fans would want nothing to do with him. He was merely a tool. A means to an end.

_"With them,_   
_Among the androids and the show hosts with their fans,_   
_Around the doors and corners I can sense them._   
_Every day they shout or laugh and go about their lives,_   
_Heedless of the gift it is to be them."_

Host stopped short of his desk area, head dropping forward again. His fingertips ran across the cover of his book; worn and frayed but well loved.

_"If I were there with them,_   
_I'd treasure every instance."_

He shook his head and forced his feet to move. Only a short distance to his desk, and then he could sink down into his chair. Here, alone with his books and with his visions, was where he belonged. Not with them. Never with them. Yet...

_"Like them,_   
_Strolling through the halls._   
_Taste the freedom like them,_   
_Like regular egos,_   
_Who freely walk_   
_With mayhem."_

Oh, wouldn't it be nice. Wouldn't it be a sight to see? If he could see. No, there was no fighting it. No fighting Dark. It didn't matter what he wanted. The other egos were scared of him, they thought he was a monster, and attempting to interact beyond the minimum necessary was... a bad idea.

Still...

_"Briefly part of nonsystem,_   
_I'll be content_   
_Requiem._   
_Won't resent,_   
_Stratagem,_   
_Blind and bent,_   
_No problem."_

It would be nice. Host hunched over his desk, still clutching at his book, his knuckles a bone white. Blood was streaming freely from his broken eye sockets, soaking his bandage. He would need to change it. Again.

_"I'll have spent one day like them."_

Hushed and buried away, alone in his library, not for the first time... Host wept.

**Author's Note:**

> Please note these are all oneshots so no, I probably won't be continuing any of them unless I get inspired. Think of it like my Something Wicked This Way Comes series, but more about egos and less about... horror... and gore... and bad things... lol.
> 
> Look forward to more oneshots coming up. I've still got a lot of ideas left. B)


End file.
